


Bravery Be Thy Choice

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World (2003)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-22
Updated: 2005-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-25 02:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1627841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Calamy's part in the Surprise's daring ruse, he and Blakeney consider cowardice and courage, both in war and other matters.  Mild slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bravery Be Thy Choice

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Jai

 

 

Like the rest of the ship, the midshipmen's berth waited to begin their celebration in earnest until the cannon fire from the Acheron, which continued to squander her shot on the Surprise's diversion, could no longer be heard. They were also waiting for their honoured guest, not only of their small company but that of the entire ship, who was doing his best to escape from Dr. Maturin's physicing.

"My dear doctor, Mr. Calamy will be quite fine with his messmates." Jack beamed down at the midshipman. "He scarcely looks at all like a drowned rat anymore. A double ration of rum and a night's sleep will put him in better trim than any of your draughts."

"Do I presume to try and steer the ship by and large, or set the staysails atop the masts?" Stephen looked between Calamy and the captain, peering sternly over his spectacles, while Jack, for his part, was torn between a fervent desire to correct Stephen's continued confusion over all things nautical and the attempt to pluck the young midshipman out of a needless night under the doctor's care.

"I would enjoy watching your attempts." Jack turned his smile, full force, on Stephen and took him by the elbow. "Killick will be waiting for us with a pot of coffee, and I'd be honored by your company."

"Very well." Stephen made a barely-stifled grunt and looked sternly at Calamy and Will Blakeney behind him. "Mr. Blakeney, I'd ask you and your messmates not to overtask Mr. Calamy, though I'm certain that you will, regardless. If there is any sign of fever, or cough.."

"Aye, sir," Blakeney said, touching his knuckle to his forehead. "We'll look after him." As the captain led the still querulous physician out of the orlop, Blakeney smiled at Calamy, though the gesture was tinged with an anxious edge in his eyes. "We were beginning to think the doctor would never let you go. Are you feeling all right?"

"Don't worry, Will. Shifting into dry clothes was the only physic I needed." Calamy tugged at his new waistcoat and chuckled, though his merriment faded when he saw Blakeney's expression was still troubled. "It's not as if I was knocked in the head by their shot," he said, tousling Will's blond curls. "Besides, Lt. Pullings is fond of saying my head's thicker than three feet of oak, and I have no doubt that he's right."

"Were you not scared? If it were me, I imagine-"Blakeney scowled, furrowing his brow, and Calamy found the sight oddly touching. "I imagine I should have been terrified."

"Oh Will.." Calamy wanted nothing more than to fold the younger midshipman in his arms, but he felt at this moment, words were needed as much as action. "Of course I was frightened, with nothing between me and her bow chaser. But you learn, after a while, not to be frightened of your fear."

"I think you must have always been brave," Blakeney said, his eyes fixing on Calamy with wisdom beyond their years. "I can't imagine you as a scared little squeaker." His voice was laden with self-reproach, and he lowered his head, intently studying the deck.

"Then ask Lt. Pullings, or Mr. Bonden, or even the captain. They all remember when I was a very little squeaker, smaller and younger than you, nearly throwing myself on the quarterdeck with fear in my first battle." Calamy smiled, tucking his hand beneath Blakeney's chin and raising his head, wonder and amazement dawning on the younger boy's cherubic face. "We were chasing a French man-of-war, 74 guns, off Ile de Groix in heavy fog. We crept up on her, trying to get the weather gage so she couldn't turn tail to L'Orient. She was able to fire on us before we were in position, and I had never been as scared as I was that morning." Calamy paused, his hand still resting beneath Blakeney's chin. "I nearly bent myself double until Captain Aubrey told me I was only putting my head even more in the path of their shot. The captain, he had no fear, nor did Lt. Pullings or any of them. That they were all so brave, well-" Calamy drew his hand back. "I decided I could be brave, too, though it still took some time. And you were certainly brave, Will, when Dr. Maturin cut off your arm."

"I didn't have to be brave for anyone else but me," Blakeney said, unwilling to accept Calamy's praise. "That really isn't being brave at all."

"Oh, stuff." Calamy frowned, checking an impulse to cuff the younger boy on the shoulder. "If you hadn't been brave, you would have just given up. If I was in your place-"

"You wouldn't have given up, Peter!" Blakeney's exclamation was clearly louder than he intended, and he looked at the door apprehensively as if he expected Dr. Maturin to come back and order him out.

"And you didn't. Will you not see that?" Calamy couldn't help but smile as his humor finally wore at Blakeney's undeserved shame. "So there will be no more of this worry and guilt, all right? It doesn't suit you. Besides, when we engage the Acheron tomorrow, I know you will be brave."

"Thank you." Blakeney gave him a small yet grateful smile as a look of thoughtful reflection glimmered in his eyes. "Peter, before you became a mid, were you ever a Grecian?"

"I studied a little Latin," Calamy said, thinking back to his first voyage when he had been better at declining verbs than using a sextant with any kind of accuracy. "Cicero and Caesar, mostly. Why do you ask?"

"I was a Grecian - my father wanted me to know my mathematics before a ship would take me, but my mother wanted me to have at least a little Greek and Latin." Blakeney smiled at the memory, the echo of a father he only knew from stories and faded Naval Gazettes his mother had reverently saved. "My schoolmaster was partial to Plato, especially the Symposium. There's one part in particular, where - I forget who it was, it wasn't Alcibiades, but he says that love is what makes us brave, courageous, for our fellow warriors. My father understood it, I'm certain, from what Captain Aubrey has told me of him, I know Lord Nelson understands it, and I think I'm coming to understand it." Blakeney reached out and clasped Calamy's hand, a warm thrum beneath his still-delicate skin.

Calamy clasped Blakeney's small hand in both of his, and with no small amount of courage pressed it to his lips. "I've no doubt of that," Calamy said, as a tinge of color rose on Blakeney's cheeks. "Now, I believe we have a celebration waiting for us in the berth."

 

 

 


End file.
